


Drabbles and Poetry

by QueenStrata (yodepalma)



Series: The Shortest Stories [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe, BAMF Neville, Bad poetry is bad, Canonical Character Death, Crack, Crack Relationships, Death is a character, Dialogue-Only, Drabble, Epistolary, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Free Verse, Gen, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor Snape, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Poetry, Prompt Fic, Reincarnation, Romance, Slytherin Harry, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherin Lily Evans, Slytherin Luna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1639004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/QueenStrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, I wrote tons and tons of drabbles and poetry. I've probably lost quite a few of the drabbles, but here's the ones that I've retained, interspersed with some poems. Each chapter is a different drabble, drabble set, or poem; and each work in the series is a different fandom. Most of these are gen, but there will likely be various pairings (including m/m, f/f, and f/m) interspersed throughout.</p><p>Also, beware the crossovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disbelief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A blackrobed skeleton appeared before him, scythe held out in a way that told Sirius that he would not, in fact, be passing any time soon.”

_Disbelief_

Sirius opened his eyes. Blinked. Looked around at his dull, drab surroundings. Noticed (belatedly) that he was still in the position of falling, even though he didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Slowly and uncertainly, he stood up. Feeling firm ground beneath his feet, he jumped a couple of times, pulled out his wand, and prepared to jump back through the veil.

A black-robed skeleton appeared before him, scythe held out in a way that told Sirius that he would not, in fact, be passing any time soon.

The ex-convict snarled and jumped right through the apparition. Death did not react, even when he pushed the veil harshly to the side, nearly ripping it off its arch. It just grinned, because it couldn’t do anything else, and shook its head.

Sirius stopped trying to breath. He looked around again, dropping his wand to the floor. There was nothing there--no people, no lights, just a wall and a tattered veil and Death staring at him pointedly. Sirius snarled. He wasn’t dead. He refused to believe it.

Death believed.


	2. Forbidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short series of drabbles written for an hp100 challenge,on Livejournal starring Seamus Finnigan and Severus Snape. Slash. Written PreHBP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first drabble was inspired by a fanfic called _50 Things I May Not Do At Hogwarts_. The others...followed. Please do not question the crackpairing.

**Owl Post**

Seamus smothered the grin that was attempting to creep up onto his face. He, personally, felt proud of his accomplishment-after all, who else would have had the guts to send something as inane as the _Evil Overlord's List_ to Voldemort (and a few select Death Eaters)? Nobody, probably. But Dumbledore and Snape had not looked at it the same way: both had berated the poor Irish boy for his complete lack of sense. They didn't believe him when he said that there were much worse things he could have done...until he mentioned the _Evil Empress' List_ and Lucius Malfoy. 

**Behind the Mask**

The boy had been given a week's worth of detention for his little stunt, to be served with Severus. The Head of Slytherin had spent every one of those insulting the boy, pretending to bask in victory as Finnigan pretended to flinch in fear. But, despite how he acted, he was actually impressed by the boy's audacity at owling Death Eaters, and secretly wondered what else the boy would be brave enough to try. He dreamed of Finnigan often, but that was okay. There were worse things he could do than lust after a student. Worse things he had done. 

**Hunger**

Seamus could always feel Snape's eyes on him. At first he had assumed it was to make sure he didn't do anything to put himself in danger (again), but eventually he looked more closely at his professor and realized that the looks were often of hunger, not anger. The thought had made him cringe-before he decided to have a bit of fun. He teased the man at meals and during class, grinned as the normally unflappable Snape shifted uncomfortably about. He would have felt bad about what he was doing...but there were worse things. There were always worse things. 

**Before Graduation**

It was torture, Severus decided, being unable to take his eyes off of a teenager for nearly two years-especially when said teenager seemed to reciprocate his feelings. Potions and meals hadn't been the same since "the incident", and it was slowly driving him mad. Yet he cherished Finnigan's actions, wanted nothing more than to be touched by such an obviously talented boy. He would not know what to do with himself when everyone was gone. So, the night before graduation, he started drinking heavily, telling himself all the worse things he could be doing. But soon, he was interrupted. 

**Tasting the Apple**

Seamus felt horribly nervous as he made his way to Snape's rooms (Harry's map shaking in his hands). His mind drew on images of rejection and anger. He hoped the thoughts weren't true. 

There couldn't be anything but relief when Snape actually answered his door, looking as nervous as his mask would allow. Seamus murmured an uneasy greeting—and then, almost before he knew what he was doing, he practically leaped into his professor's arms and pulled the older man's face down into a passionate kiss. He'd thought that this would feel worse than the wanting…but somehow, it was better.


	3. Your Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth behind the mask of the Boy-Who-Lived. (a poem!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old poem is old, but I like it.

  
How can you expect a hero from him?  
This boy grew up with hatred and prejudice.  
How can you expect love from him?  
We are our experiences. He has never known love.  
How can you expect him to make the right decisions?  
All the good things he has done were wrong.  
Shoved into a world of adoration, he becomes only what you want.  
He can’t stand to be hated any longer.  
Do you believe you really have Harry Potter here?  
The Boy-Who-Lived is all that exists for you.  
He hides his true self behind well-built walls.  
Those walls built of kindness and love and whatever else you tell him to feel.  
What would you do if you knew the truth?  
Would you hate him, shun him? Throw him off his unwanted pedestal?  
Admit it, you all know you would.  
After all, aren’t heroes supposed to be perfect, selfless, god-like people?  
Perhaps.  
But you just try telling that to him.


	4. Dreamless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war had gone on, it seemed, for eternity. It had been two years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I'm remembering correctly, this long drabble was based on a livejournal icon and written for a meme that was going around a few years ago. But, uh, don't quote me on that.
> 
> Snape seems...mildly out of character here. Meh.

_Dreamless_

Harry was exhausted. Again. It was always like that these days, now that the two of them had been locked away together “for their own safety.” They were only allowed out to fight in battles, and even then they were just a secret weapon. Even then it was only for a couple hours at a time—if that much. And that time was spent fighting, forever fighting. The war had gone on, it seemed, for eternity. It had been two years.

Harry slept as little as possible, in order to hold off the nightmares. In his waking hours, he would train continuously, teaching himself spells and hexes of all sorts, reading books on strategy and war, watching old Muggle martial arts movies and mimicking the moves. He even got Dumbledore to provide him with assorted weaponry, no questions asked.

Harry was always worrying. About the safety of his friends, about whether he was good enough, about if he would eventually run out of things to study. He worried about what would happen to the war if he died, worried that Ron’s strategies wouldn’t be enough, that Hermione’s extensive knowledge of spells and her ability to tinker with them would backfire, that Remus would one day be driven insane in wolf form and attack the wrong pack. He worried that everyone else would die. The only things he didn’t worry about were what would happen to him at the end and what all this stress and lack of sleep was doing to his health.

But Severus Snape did worry. He hadn’t spent a year and a half alone with the boy to end up still hating him. He convinced Harry, sometimes, to read something for entertainment, or to watch one of his movies without practicing. He played chess with the boy and almost never won, because Severus was anything but a strategist. He made sure Harry ate well and took long, relaxing baths and occasionally had something nice to drink like butterbeer or hot chocolate. And when Harry had gone three days without sleeping or had hurt himself training, Severus made sure he relaxed.

Harry never complained when he was presented with a Dreamless Sleep potion, but he didn’t always drink it. Severus didn’t usually force him to, mainly because Harry always ended up getting the hint and going to sleep regardless.

But after the final battle, Harry didn’t need any hints. He returned to their prison, mostly out of habit and lack of thought—Severus had gone there to enjoy the time without any sort of celebrations. And Harry took a long bath, enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate as he lost spectacularly in a game of chess, and then went into his bedroom. He was asleep before he hit the bed. The older man followed after putting the chess game away, noticed Harry’s inelegant sprawl, and allowed a real smile to settle, unseen, on his face. He gently pulled the covers over the boy’s sleeping form and tucked him in. Then he conjured a chair next to Harry’s bed and picked up a small book that Harry had obviously been reading before he had been called to battle, and started to read.

Harry’s sleep that night was peaceful, even without a potion. Severus’ fond smile didn’t waver, even when Harry woke up and smiled sleepily back at him.


	5. Dear Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old quill brings forth ancient memories.

_Dear Lily_

The false quill had been stored away in the attic, hidden from prying eyes inside a long forgotten box. The feather had turned slightly yellow from age, the tip bent from being stuck under piles of paper. The ink, once a liquid blue, had long since dried out. It was a memory of happier times, when two young girls had promised to be the best of friends forever.

She hated it. Picking up a regular pen, she thought of what to write.

_Dear Lily,_ the letter eventually began,

_I wish your son had died with you._

_-Petunia_

And tears fell.


	6. Eyes of Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I meant this as Draco/Harry when I wrote it, but I guess you can pick your poison.

_Eyes of Ice_

Eyes of ice observe the trends  
That never fade away.  
They freeze for you,  
And tell the truth in lies. 

Eyes of ice observe mirages  
That last from day to day.  
They melt for you,  
And simply tell the truth. 

Eyes of ice observe the lovers  
That happily pass by.  
They pool for you,  
And pull you deeper in. 

Eyes of ice observe the families  
That love each other so.  
They flow for you,  
And promise you the same. 


	7. Walls of Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was absolutely meant to be read as Harry/Draco, but take it as you will.

  
_Walls of Ice_

You hide behind your walls of ice,   
Cold and frozen solid,   
To make them think what you want them to.   
And the fools all buy it.

Those frozen walls hide the “shameful” truth,   
The truth so few can know,   
And most who think they know you best,   
They know you not at all.

You’re cold and cruel and callous,   
No emotions on your face   
Or so you act, and so those fools believe.   
But there’s so much more to see.

You hide behind your walls of ice,   
Though inside you’ve almost melted.   
But the fools still believe you frozen solid,   
Yet you let me know the truth.

Those froze walls hide the “shameful” truth,   
The truth you’ve let none know,   
But when you’re with me, your walls collapse;   
And still I wonder why

You’re cold and cruel and callous,   
Emotions don’t exist,   
As your walls spring up for all those blinded fools.   
Still, you’re so much more to me.


	8. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Remus remember. (It's all dialogue, except two words.)

_Remembrance_

"You wrote it with that quill, remember?"

"What quill?"

"The white one that you dropped in your red ink. You have to remember it. It stayed pink after you washed it out."

"Ah. _That_ quill."

"See?"

"But I still have no recollection of ever writing _this_ bit of drivel."

"It was… after the Incident. We talked, per Dumbledore's request. Got quite drunk on the Firewhisky you smuggled in."

"Rather explains why I have no memory of this. Not everyone is like _you_."

"I'm rather thankful for that, really."

A pause.

"I meant it, you know."

"What?"

"…I do love you."


	9. And They

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...suffer the price of forbidden love...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first poems I ever wrote for the fandom, and looking back on it it's kind of, uh, terrible? The entire theory of it was that Tom Riddle had been in love with someone and had had a chance to sort of avoid becoming Voldemort entirely, but something happened between them that was never resolved and yeah.
> 
> See? Terrible. My poetry gets better, I swear. XD

Tears flow,  
Red as his eyes.  
And he remembers  
A different world.  
And all he destroyed  
Returns to haunt him.  
And blue eyes  
Pervade his senses,  
And he stares in a mirror  
Recalling himself.  
And he regrets  
All he'd done.  
And he turns away,  
Burying the past.

Far away,  
Another remembers.  
And tears flow  
In silent silver streams.  
And she knows  
The pain of forbidden love.  
And blue eyes  
Pervade her senses,  
And she stares in the mirror  
Recalling their past.  
And she regrets  
Her hasty words.  
And she turns away,  
Destroying the world.


	10. Consequence of Revenge

_Consequence of Revenge_

A cloud of darkness   
descends upon the Earth,   
drowning the light of day   
with an evil seen once before.   
The Dark Lord arises with a vengeance.   
His first thought is of revenge   
to kill an innocent child   
who would thwart him once again.   
(One single boy,   
saved by his mother's love,   
shall destroy the Dark Lord once again.)   
For, though revenge is sweet indeed,   
one must be careful to exert control,   
and not let such a strong emotion   
control one's every thought.   
This driving force may conquer   
every fool who comes between   
the Dark Lord and his prey   
And, though no foe of his   
shall ever be powerful enough   
to destroy his body and soul,   
his own greed and sought revenge   
shall bring him down in strength   
just enough to allow   
one single sliver of Good,   
one innocent little boy   
to become the victor.


	11. Sneak Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innocence is the sound of a beating heart. (featuring BAMF!Neville)

_Sneak Attack_

The pounding of Neville's heart drowned out any sounds. He wondered that nobody else heard it. That nobody else attempted to quiet him, declare that he would get caught. The heart beat against his ribcage, overworking itself to give him the heart magic that would keep him alive throughout this hell of a sneak attack. He didn't hear the call to attack, but he saw and leapt along with his comrades; he didn't hear the words screamed, but saw enemies fall before him, one-by-one. His pounding heart made him a hero, immune to the knowledge of the horrors he'd done.


	12. Come See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of character studies in poetry form.

_Come See_

 

His smiles hide the pain he feels,

His kind words hide the hatred he knows,

His courage keeps his fears from surfacing,

His honor keeps him from saying what he means.

          Come see who wears the Hero’s Mask.

His loyalty hides his jealousy,

His strong emotions hide his emptiness,

His shadowed life keeps him in his place,

His denial keeps him from speaking truth.

          Come see who wears the Sidekick’s Mask.

Her logic hides her true emotions,

Her friends hide her from deserved respect,

Her strength keeps her from striking back,

Her love keeps her from being content.

          Come see who wears the Helper’s Mask.

His fear hides his true power,

His secrets hide his past,

His lack of courage keeps him from talking back,

His thoughts keep him from the truth.

          Come see who wears the Fool’s Mask.

His bitter words hide the pain he feels,

His fear hides his true emotions,

His family keeps him from changing,

His past mistakes keep him from his proper place.

          Come see who wears the Rival’s Mask.

His hatred hides his true emotions,

His past grievances hide his first nature,

His reputation keeps him from showing mercy,

His desire for revenge keeps him from giving up.

          Come see who wears the Devil’s Mask.


	13. Werewolf

_Werewolf_

Hazel eyes stare into the darkened sky,  
Searching for the bane of his existence.  
The bright red moon reveals itself to him,  
And thus begins the change of man to wolf.  
Pain and agony of limbs switching forms  
Courses throughout his entire body,  
And then dies away as the change completes,  
Destroying the man—reviving the wolf.


	14. The Halloween Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old hp100 challenge on LJ: send in the clowns. Her ball was a party of one. Probably written after the fifth book came out.

_The Halloween Ball_

That Halloween, Hogwarts had a ball. Literally. It was small, red, and perched on Luna Lovegood's nose. She also carried around several other balls that she played with as she walked through the hallways. Other students giggled as she went by, but she was used to it. Even if she hadn't been, she still wouldn't have cared. She had been one of the few people to aid Harry in fighting his final battle against Voldemort a few days before, and deserved this opportunity to throw her own private party, having been uninvited to the majority of the ones going on.


	15. Even in the Afterlife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hp100 challenge: send in the clowns. Even after death, all he wanted was to make his godson happy.

_Even in the Afterlife_

Apparently, he had been believed when he'd told people that he wanted to be reborn as a clown. He was in another world but he still knew everything about his past life. He remembered his two broken families, the years in Azkaban and mostly every little thing about Harry, because the boy had become the most important thing in his decrepit life. The memory of his godson was the only thing that made him love his new identity. The king's son looked and acted remarkably like the Boy-Who-Lived, and Sirius loved to provide any incarnation of him with genuine happiness.


	16. Bitter and Sweet Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hp100 challenge: send in the clowns. Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet fool? (from King Lear, by Shakespeare)

_Bitter and Sweet Fool_

Too many people considered him a clown, laughing even when he was being dead serious. Of course he had attempted to get the proper attention from his housemates—let them know what they were doing to him, how desperate he was for someone to let him be himself. But not even Dean would listen to him. So when Malfoy approached him in something akin to understanding, he agreed immediately. If Voldemort was the only person capable of believing in him, he would turn from his peers. Proud as Seamus was at his inception, all he wore was his expressionless mask.


	17. Emerald Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Harry/Draco poem, from Draco's POV.

_Emerald Eyes_

Confused emerald eyes stare at me,  
Hidden behind a messy black fringe,  
And false walls I dare not penetrate. 

Frozen emerald eyes stare at me,  
And deny the only thing I want,  
Puncturing my overly inflated ego.

Angry emerald eyes stare at me,  
Forcing me, for one confused moment,  
To lose my perfected composure. 

Frightened emerald eyes stare at me,  
Following my steps into the night,  
Hoping, perhaps, for my final defeat. 

Elated emerald eyes stare at me,  
Taking away yet another victory,  
Daring me to make one last stand. 

Distrustful emerald eyes stare at me,  
Searching for a reason to believe,  
And ending up successful. 

Loving emerald eyes stare at me,  
Pulling me still deeper in,  
And smiling as I drown again.


	18. Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort's victory, as seen through their eyes. (A poem.)

 

_Eyes_

Eyes of green  
Stare out upon a cold new world.  
Eyes of brown  
Cry silver tears on forgotten ground.  
Eyes of silver  
Refuse mourning for mangled beauty.  
Eyes of black  
Sadly watch the destruction of innocence.  
Eyes of blue  
Cry as the light dies.  
Eyes of red  
Grin in their final victory.


	19. Different LIves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small collection of drabbles where the prompt was to sort any character into a different house.

_A Fine Line_

She loved pretending she was insane. It was really very fun to get reactions from people and see the looks on their faces.

She also liked showing people that she was smart. It was wonderful when people's eyes widened and they stared at her uncomprehendingly until she smiled absently and drifted off, appearing as if she was once again lost in her own little world.

"The dumber people think you are, the more surprised they'll be when you kill them." It was so true. She just loved to play with people's minds.

Luna grinned dreamily. She loved being a Slytherin.

* * *

 

_Dirt_

"Granger, Hermione!"

  
She stepped forward uncertainly. Scared brown eyes took in the entire Great Hall as she sat on the chair. Then they fell on a single boy.  
"Dirt," the boy mouthed, smirk set firmly on his face. He had called her nastier things on the train, that Draco Malfoy.

  
Hermione bristled. So she had never encountered magic before. Big deal! It didn't mean that she was  _below_  anyone!

  
Her eyes filled with angry tears as the hat slipped onto her head. She would show that boy. She would.

  
" _Slytherin!_ " the hat yelled. The look on Malfoy's face was priceless.

* * *

 

__  
_Revenge_ __  


He hated prejudice. He had been hated while growing up because of who he was, because he looked out of place and tiny and unkempt—he wasn't one of them. And so he detested those blinded by…anything.

  
So he hated them, and he wanted revenge. Revenge for everything that had been done for him, for everything he knew had yet to be done to him. He was prepared to do whatever he could to get the knowledge he needed for revenge.

  
Perhaps that had been the deciding factor. His thirst for sweet revenge.

  
" _Slytherin!_ "

  
Harry Potter smirked. Revenge was his.

* * *

 

_Cosmic Joke_

He was so dead. The moment word got to his father about his placement, he was going to march down to Hogwarts and drag him out—probably by his hair. Then he would get the tongue-lashing of his life, the usual snarls about how much of a disappointment he was to the family and then there would be his inevitable disownment. His life was ruined, and all because of that stupid hat.

  
The thing was broken. It had to be. Why else would it have put  _him_  in this house? It just wasn't right.

  
A Malfoy in Gryffindor. How embarrassing.

* * *

 

_Freedom_

He was sick of family values—not that there were actually any in his family, unless you counted to remain Purebloods for eternity and to remain firmly against Muggles and Mudbloods. His father was abusive and domineering; his mother was submissive. The only thing either of them cared about was upholding the "family honor." But there was no such thing as actual honor for them.

  
So when the hat asked him if he had a preference on Houses, he had picked the obvious choice.

  
He hated Gryffindors. But Severus Snape was more than happy to join them for his freedom.

* * *

 

_First Crush_

"She's a Slytherin, you realize," Remus stated softly, casually. It was third year, and one of his best friends had gotten his very first crush. "I thought you hated Slytherins."

  
"She can't be all bad!" was the defensive response. "I mean, she's really very—"

  
"Beautiful?" Sirius snickered. "That's the reason you like her."

  
"She's more than that," James scowled.

  
"Right, she's perfect."

  
"Exactly!"

  
"She hates you, you know," Remus grinned.

  
"Right now, maybe," James seemed adamant. "I'll show you that she'll come around." The boy turned, eyes on a small group of girls by the lake. "Evans! Hey, Evans!"


	20. I Hear a Dragon Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Draco/Harry poem.

_I Hear a Dragon Cry_

In the darkest part of night  
I hear a dragon cry.  
I crouch inside the shadows,  
Hidden from his view,  
And I listen to his angstful sobs  
As my heart breaks into two.

My eyes travel over his body  
As I realize all over again  
That I desire to feel his silken strands of hair  
Between my calloused fingertips,  
As I soothe away his fears.  
Yet I know that is not meant to be  
Or else I would be close to him.

Yet, as I think about it,  
While I watch the moonlight reflecting  
Silver off of silver,  
I realize that it could have been,  
Had I just accepted his proffered hand.  
But I, stubborn and proud,  
Turned away his friendship  
In favor of someone else.

So I crawl out from my hidden spot  
And make my presence known,  
And I speak of my thoughts and desires.  
He stares at me with wounded eyes,  
Eyes still red from tears,  
And I offer him my hand to shake,  
Knowing what will come from  
This mirror image of a remembered mistake.

His eyes search mine, seeking truth  
And he smiles bitterly,  
For he too knows  
How we were meant to be.  
And, tears still falling,  
He turns from me,  
Refusing all he wants.

Still, as he walks away  
In that darkest part of night,  
I hear a dragon cry.

 


	21. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of drabbles for which the prompt was simply "spring". The last drabble is a 100-word sentence, because Hermione.

_Afterlife (Sirius)_

Eyes closed, he fanned his wings out behind him and breathed in fresh air. The soft, merciful breeze that blew around him made him laugh, and water swirled around his legs, soaking through the thin fabric he now wore. This was a world for those who felt they were still needed, who wanted to make a difference to someone, even if it was someone they had never known. So he had been reborn into a place that knew nothing of the atrocities he had both committed and witnessed. The world after the veil was eternal Spring: forgiving, beautiful, and perfect.

* * *

_Child of Spring (Luna)_

In her eyes, you could see the Spring. Flowers bloomed in her soul, as gaily colored petals fell from the towering trees of her mind. There was always something new in her, a new idea, or a twist on beliefs long forgotten; she was Ravenclaw reborn. She sought knowledge of all sorts, even those of questionable morals or those that caused her classmates to scorn her, and nothing deterred her from her quest. Her windows showed her to be a person that was open and loving during the day, but mysterious when it became dark—changeable as the cycling moon.

* * *

_Forgiveness (Snape)_

Severus inhaled the sweet smell of Spring. He would never tell a soul his secret, but the season of rebirth had always been his favorite. It was a promise of forgiveness. The pastels of Hogwarts were beautiful, even on days that bespoke of rain, and he was a man that appreciated everything of beauty.

Still, the looming castle walls made him hesitate. Even on such a perfect day, he wasn't sure if anyone could view him in anything but hatred and disgust. He couldn't. All the same, he took a deep breath to ready himself, and walked toward his fate.

* * *

_Necessity (Neville)_

Even he could spring to action, when necessity demanded it. Maybe he wasn't the smartest, or the most powerful, but he was proud of what he  _was_ : the average boy in an extraordinary world, able to retain his own self amidst all the pressures placed upon him. However, when Severus Snape lay bleeding and broken on the ground at his feet with nobody but the least expected person with him, even Neville could find the courage and abilities hidden in the spring of his soul to save a hated life and be the hero he'd always wished he could be.

* * *

_Righteous Anger (Hermione)_

Hermione Granger sprang forward, leaping toward the horrible creature fleeing from her righteous anger—she had never, in all her life, encountered a creature so audacious as to steal away the knowledge that she had painstakingly amassed in her very own leather-bound tome; however, this wretched beast had not only taken it, but destroyed it as well: if she had anything to say about it, the monster would soon be destroyed—nobody and nothing had any right to take away what was hers, especially when it was so important; not even Ron had been stupid enough to attack her love.


	22. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A poem inspired by the events of the fourth book.

_Echoes_

The wind blows amidst the trees-  
Echoing the soft whispers  
(And pained screams)  
Of those who shall not be named.  
(Of an innocent boy.)

Lightning flashes in domed patterns—  
Echoing the bright lights  
(From the innocent twin—)  
From the wand of a bringer of death.  
(A bringer of hope.)

The rain falls in silence—  
Echoing the silent power  
(Of unknown courage)  
Of the evil that has been newly revived.  
(Taken from long-forgotten forms.)

The wind blows amidst the trees—  
Echoing the soft whispers  
(And phoenix song—)  
Of those who shall not be named.  
(The invisible victor.)


	23. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Draco/Harry poem inspired by a story I read years ago on ff.net.

_Dance_

A hand is held out,  
And three words are spoken.  
(Foreign emotions burn in your eyes.) 

And a hand is taken,  
Opening paths closed to us before.  
(Unspoken laws broken by us tonight.) 

A question is asked,  
And your eyes are pleading.  
(Destiny forced to change the path she set.) 

And a question is answered,  
Releasing a sigh of previously held breath.  
(For once Fate finds herself kind.)

A vow is made,  
And I know you speak the truth.  
(The masks fall to the floor.)

And a vow is given,  
Bringing forth a soft smile.  
(Nothing will be the same again.)


	24. The Founders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the last drabble collection; this time the prompt was to write a drabble about the Founders.

_Guardian Demon_

Sometimes, she was a demon from the bowels of Hell. She was not one to let her children—the precious young witches and wizards that looked to her for guidance—be hurt. It was quite a change from her normal manner, and sometimes she was feared as much as the Muggles with the horrible torches. But all fears were soothed when she quickly returned to regularity, procuring bottles of ointment or soothing potions out of hidden pockets in her robes. Helga was the epitome of a mother, despite having no children of her own. Nobody would dare touch her students.

* * *

_On Eloquence_

If there was one thing he wasn't good at, it was words. Whereas Salazar could speak eloquently about anything in several languages, Godric could only stutter and yell incoherent nonsense about courage and victory. Salazar was always the one who made speeches whenever Pureblood families demanded that the Founders prove their aptitude to be the teachers of their heirs. Salazar could cut Godric down with his cunning wit in seconds, making him feel incredibly stupid; he could even, at times, make Rowena's flights of fancy seem perfectly normal.

Godric would never let on just how much he envied his rival.

* * *

_T_ _he Truth_

Not everyone thought Rowena was intelligent. Many people (mostly students) thought her to be a bit too dreamy, always going off into tangents on whatever her mind took a fancy to. Sometimes the stories were ridiculous—monsters that suffocate people in their sleep and exploding animals with a tail at each end that even magic could never create. Other times she just told stories of them—Godric riding a Griffin, or Salazar talking to his snakes. She was always more grounded when she spoke of realities.

Nobody ever found out that she was a Seer. Insanity was a safer answer.

* * *

_Raised by the Friendly Fiefdom Basilisk_

There was one fact about Salazar Slytherin that was never advertised to the history books or the general public—it was the reason that he could speak Parseltongue, that he loved snakes as much as he did. But to let such a secret loose would be disastrous. Nobody, even those of Pureblood families, would want their children around someone who was raised in such a feral manner. A man who had been taught from childhood to steal and to cheat to live his life? He was barely tolerated as it was. Nobody need know that his "mother" was a basilisk.

* * *

_The End_

He wasn't evil. Not really. Most people thought he was because he was intelligent and sly and would stop at (practically) nothing to get what he wanted. But he was a very passive man, who stuck by his morals and took care of the ones he claimed as his own. It was only for the sake of his children that he began his campaign against allowing Muggleborns into Hogwarts. He didn't want to risk any trouble with the Muggles who would never be able to understand. He wouldn't—couldn't—stand for the ignorance. He had to leave his home. Forever.


End file.
